


the voice rpf ones

by amosanguis



Series: unfinished [4]
Category: The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:09:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8769415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: Various unfinished and abandoned The Voice snippets.





	1. the bluke one

**Author's Note:**

> I'm cleaning out my WIPs. If any of these inspire your own fic, feel free to continue them. Please do not ask me to continue any of these.

-z-

 

Luke sees how Adam is looking at Blake.  He narrows his eyes, looks at his phone and shoots a text off to Blake, says, _Im comin out to LA, hope u don’t mind.  If u do, too bad._

Then he stands up from his couch and begins to pack.

The next time he checks his phone, he has a text from Blake: _about time_

_Wut does that mean?_

_It means that I’m excited!_

Luke rolls his eyes and tosses his phone onto his bed as he steps into his closet, beginning to asses which jeans will serve him best.

 

-

 

Luke makes it a point to sidle up close to Blake, to lean into him whenever they were close enough to each other.  Blake doesn’t notice, just grins down at Luke before he turns back to whichever member of Team BS was in front of them.

(Carson notices how quiet Blake gets as soon as Luke is within eyesight – as if Luke just automatically usurps all of Blake’s attention.  Carson pretends he isn’t reading into that revelation as much as he is.)

 

-

 

“It’s good to see you again,” Luke says, pressing a kiss to Blake’s lips. 

Blake smiles, leans down and rubs his nose along Luke’s jaw, “You, too.  I’ve missed you.”

“I never would have guessed,” Luke says, tilting his head to the side – giving Blake more access to his throat.  “What with the way Levine was looking at you.”

Blake huffs out a laugh and Luke’s sure that, if he were looking, he’d see Blake rolling his eyes.  “Adam is just a friend,” he says.  Then his voice deepens and it’s rough as Blake backs Luke up until Luke hits a wall.  “Besides, what could a rock singer give me?  They’re much too fragile.”

Luke chuckles darkly, lifts one hand up and runs it through Blake’s hair while his other hand grabs Blake by his belt loop and pulls their hips flush.

“I bet he’s nervous around you,” Luke growls, pushing away from the wall before shoving Blake against it.  “I bet he’s cautious.  I bet he tries too hard to prove himself.  I bet he doesn’t know how to just show you what he wants.”

“And what is it you want?” Blake asks, his eyes half-lidded as he grips Luke’s hips, keeping them pressed together.

Luke leans up, scrapes his teeth first along Blake’s neck, then Blake’s jaw, then up to Blake’s ear, and he whispers, “I want you to fuck me.  Obviously.”

 

-x-


	2. the thing about country musicians - version 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Blake almost kills a pedophile.

-z-

 

The thing about country musicians, Adam is starting to notice, is that they’re _dangerous_.  And Blake?  Turned out he was the most deadly of them all.

 

-

 

Adam is standing in front of Shakira and laughing, his head thrown back and everything, when Blake comes back to the stage and sits in his chair.

It’s how _quiet_ he is that draws Adam’s attention – how he hasn’t told Adam to shut up or to explain what happened.

“Dude,” Adam starts, sauntering over to Blake’s chair and flipping Blake’s notebook off the little desk, “what’s up?  Why’re you so quiet?”

Blake doesn’t move, just keeps one hand over his mouth and the other over the knee he’s got an ankle propped up on.  His eyes are hard and staring at the stage – staring right through Adam.

Adam glances at Shakira – but she’s talking to Usher, so he turns back to Blake, waves a hand in his face.  Blake’s eyes suddenly snap up to Adam and Adam takes a step backwards, feels a cold shot of terror grab him by the neck and squeeze.

“What, Adam?” Blake asks, shaking himself and rubbing at his eyes.

“Um,” Adam looks around – tries to see if anyone else had seen what had just happened (no one else is looking) – before he looks back at Blake.  “You okay?” he finally settles on.

“I’m fine, boy,” Blake says as he leans backwards, voice strained and accent thickened with _something_ , and waves Adam away, “go on.”

If Blake was in a mood, it would have been smart to walk away – to let him work his way through it, but Adam’s never been smart about things like this.  He’s always felt the need to _push_.

“I don’t feel like it,” Adam says, dropping his voice and leaning in close.  He hears his own breath hitch when Blake’s eyes flicker down to Adam’s lips.  “C’mon, big country, tell me what’s wrong?” he dips his head, looks up at Blake from under his eyelashes.

The reaction is as instantaneous as it is subtle – what little part of Blake’s expression that had warmed, went cold again.

Adam opens his mouth to ask again, but Carson is there and tugging Adam away.  “You two can whisper sweet little nothings to each other later,” he says, “but we’ve got to get this show on the road.”

 

-

 

Blake’s black mood persists for the next two days of taping. 

On the third day, Adam’s on his way to Blake’s trailer when he hears a shout for help.  He breaks into a run and rounds a corner just in time to see a cameraman punch Blake – Blake’s reciprocal punch is harder and it sends the guy flying backwards.

Blake stands over him, fists clenched and shaking, as he shouts, “You _ever_ come near that boy again – I won’t fuckin’ stop!  I will beat the ever-loving shit out of you until your own mother won’t recognize you!”

“Blake,” Adam yells, stepping forward to try to step in front of Blake – but he’s stopped by Lance, one of the contestants.  Lance who’s a hundred pounds soaking wet and one of the few male contestants Adam’s seen Blake get protective over – and now he has tears on his face and he’s shaking.  “What is going on?” Adam asks, trying to stay calm.

“I thought he was just being nice,” Lance says, but then he’s interrupted as the cameraman – Adam thinks his name was Mark or Max – gets back on his feet.

“You goddam hick,” he yells, “you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

Then Blake is surging forward, grabbing Mark or Max by his shirt collar, and lifting him off the ground.  “I know what I saw,” he snarls, dark and dangerous, “that boy is fifteen years old and you’re fucking done.”

Blake drops the guy – who lands in a heavy heap on the ground – pulls back long enough to grab his phone and take a picture of him.

“If you run before the cops get here – I’m tweeting this photo,” Blake says, crouching down in front of the man.  “And I don’t know if you know this, but the type of people who follow me don’t take very kindly to pedophiles.  They will look for you.  They will find you,” Blake pauses, leans forward, “and there’s no guarantee that they’ll leave enough of you to send to prison.  Do you understand what I’m getting at here, Max?”

Max goes pale and he nods.

Adam feels his stomach drop as he realizes what’s happened.  He turns to Lance, puts his arm around Lance’s shoulder, says, “We’ll let Uncle Blake handle this.”  Then he turns Lance away and shoots a text off to Carson, telling him to send security out to the back lot.

 

-

 

Later, Lance is still under Adam’s arm – when Blake walks up.

“It’s not your fault, kid,” Blake says.

“But you told me –” Lance starts.

“I shouldn’t have told you anything,” Blake interrupts, “I should have dealt with Max then.  I should’ve trusted my instincts and for that I’m sorry.  I am.”

Lance looks like he wants to argue, instead he steps out from under Adam’s arm – and runs into Blake’s.  “It’s okay,” he says instead.

“Okay,” Blake says, hugging Lance tightly.  He looks up and meets Adam’s eyes, gives him a small, tight smile.

Adam pointedly pulls out his phone and makes a show of texting Blake.

_We need to talk after you’re done here._

 

-

 

“Hey,” Blake says when Adam answers his door.  Adam glares at him before turning away from him.  “Hey,” Blake says again, reaching out and touching Adam’s shoulder and turning Adam around, “I messed up.  I know.”

“If you knew he was creeping on one of the kids,” Adam says, feeling himself getting angrier, “then you should have said something!”

“Had he _done_ something three days ago,” Blake says, staying calm, “I would have punched him in the face then.  I just saw him _lookin’_ at Lance, so I told Lance to keep his head up.  I was keepin’ an eye on Max, I was.  That guy was always in my sight.  I turned around for one second and he just—he was gone.  So I freaked out and went after him and that’s when I saw him try to grab Lance.  That’s when you came up.”

“Blake,” Adam starts, “what I’m saying is – you didn’t have to do it by yourself.  What if the guy was crazier than you thought?  What if he’d had a gun?”

Blake nods and sighs, runs a hand through his hair.  He huffs out a laugh before he says, “I’m from Oklahoma – it’s when a crazy guy _doesn’t_ have a gun that I start to worry.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Adam says.

“I know,” Blake says, as if he were taking that as a compliment, “I couldn’t turn Max in just on a gut feeling.  What if I was wrong?”

“What if you weren’t there?” Adam counters.

“Look, we can play the _what if_ game until we blue in the face,” Blake snaps (Adam knew then that Blake had more than likely ran through all of the what-ifs in his head – going over and over and over all of the things that could have gone wrong), “but it’s over and done with.  He’s sittin’ in a jail cell and the cops have my testimony and Lance’s and they’ll probably be asking for yours tomorrow.”

“Alright, Blake,” Adam says.  “How is Lance, by the way?”

“He’s fine,” Blake says, moving around Adam and towards the kitchen, “he’s with his parents.”  Then Blake is moving around the kitchen, pointedly making them drinks that are more vodka than coke.

Adam changes the subject – asks Blake if he’s been to the new club downtown, to which Blake responds with a lifted eyebrow and a snort.

 

-

 

Lance doesn’t make it on the show much longer, but Blake doesn’t stop talking to him.


	3. the thing about country musicians - version 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Has the same intro as the last chapter, but goes in a completely different direction.
> 
> Ft. were-bison Blake Shelton

-z-

 

The thing about country musicians, Adam is starting to notice, is that they’re _dangerous_.  And Blake?  Turned out he was the most deadly of them all.

 

-

 

Adam is standing in front of Shakira and laughing, his head thrown back and everything, when Blake comes back to the stage and sits in his chair.

It’s how _quiet_ Blake is that draws Adam’s attention – how he hasn’t told Adam to shut up or to demand that he explain what was so funny.

“Dude,” Adam starts, sauntering over to Blake’s chair and flipping Blake’s notebook off the little desk, “what’s up?”

Blake doesn’t move, just keeps one hand over his mouth and the other over the knee he’s got an ankle propped up on.  His eyes are hard and staring at the stage – staring right through Adam.

Adam glances at Shakira – but she’s talking to Usher, so he turns back to Blake, waves a hand in his face.  Blake’s eyes suddenly snap up to Adam and Adam takes a step backwards, feels a cold shot of terror grab him by the neck and squeeze.

“What, Adam?” Blake asks, shaking himself and rubbing at his eyes.

“Um,” Adam hesitates.  “You okay?” he finally settles on.

“I’m fine, boy,” Blake says as he leans backwards, voice strained and accent thickened with _something_ , and waves Adam away, “go on, leave me alone.”

If Blake was in a mood, Adam knew it would have been smart to walk away – to let him work his way through it.  Adam’s never been smart.

“I don’t feel like it,” Adam says, dropping his voice and leaning in close.  He hears his own breath hitch when Blake’s eyes flicker down to Adam’s lips.  “C’mon, big country, tell me what’s wrong?” he dips his head, looks up at Blake from under his eyelashes.

The reaction is as instantaneous as it is subtle – what little part of Blake’s expression that had warmed, went cold again.

Adam opens his mouth to ask again, but Carson is there and tugging Adam away.  “You two can whisper sweet little nothings to each other later,” he says, “but we’ve got to get this show on the road.”

 

-x-

 

When Blake feels his skin beginning to itch, feels that longing deep in his chest – he knows that he’s in trouble.

 

-

 

The city is too hot, too crowded, and there’s never enough sky and it makes Blake want to put his horns through a wall.

Or a truck.


End file.
